The Brief Smile…

a cooking pot and twisted tales

From yards away, I saw her. Seated in a yoga pose on the brown bench, her back to the early morning sun, my quiet musing was interrupted.

Like a dog that sniffs at the air, I sniffed at the aura surrounding her and within a stone throw, I saw the unwitting frown line that dug into the sides of her lips; they were at odds with the smoothness of her forehead.

She raised a flask, took a sip and dropped it, all the time her right fingers tapped on her phone with speed that belied her pose. I watched her with more interest as I drew closer, my brisk steps slowed down a notch.  I saw a tear as it escaped and raced down her pinkened cheek.

It could have been easier to avert my eyes and pretend I neither saw her nor witnessed her private pain. I didn’t want…

View original post 99 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s